Love stories are not really my thing but when I was sent a copy of the Jewel of Medina by the author I made an effort to try and read it. Set through the eyes of Aisha, the Prophet's youngest wife, the book is a fictional account, loosely strung around historical events.

I must say that the book – it is written in the first person, the first person being Aisha – was difficult to get my head round. These are such venerated figures from the earliest years of Islam that to feel you are getting into her mind is certainly uncomfortable. The Prophet is reliably quoted to have said that Muslims should take half of their religion from Aisha. She is considered a great scholar in her own right and entitled the "Mother of Believers".

The author, Sherry Jones, states that her intention is to honour Islam in her novel. Since it is fiction, she has interwoven fact with fantasy to produce a love story which essentially appeals to a mainly western audience – with its exotic undertones of the "kohl-darkened eyes" of Arabian women behind purdah yearning for love and freedom. While there are no sex scenes there is a lot of talk of sex.

Sherry makes clear, in a statement at the back of her book, the bits she has made up to make the storyline more exciting. One such example is Aisha's love interest, Safwan ibn al-Mu'attal, who has cameo appearances throughout the book, even while she's married to the Prophet. To me this just belittles her fictional character. Some of the stereotypes around the Prophet are also reinforced, such as his marriages having as much to do with lust than political alliance-building or concern for widows with children.

Nowhere in the book do we get any real insight into the profound sense of history that Aisha and those around her must have felt they were witnessing: divine revelation was taking place, a new religion (albeit an Abrahamic one) was being born, a sense of liberation from the old sexist oppressive norms and a proximity to God that would be unimaginable to the rest of us; but all this gets a bit lost in a storyline more interested in the bickering of the Prophet's wives.

Aisha's role in learning directly from the Prophet and thus excelling in scholarship – she's destined to become a highly respected authority on Islam – does not merit much attention. You don't get much sense of the sacred here. (Sherry's sequel, which focuses on the post-Prophet part of her life, may cover this in more detail).

In the UK, Sherry is approaching Muslim groups who have condemned the book (but have obviously not yet read it). She is convinced that the controversy will die down once people have had a chance to read it. She even asked me to put her in touch with Anjem Choudary. I did and she has left him a message!

This may show some naiveté, but you cannot knock her sincerity. It is very different from Salman Rushdie's initial reaction to the controversy when his Satanic Verses was newly released: "Frankly I wish I had written a more critical book," I remember him saying at the time.

Calling for books such as these to be banned or censored shows a lack of confidence over the subject matter. The only response to freedom of speech is more freedom of speech and the right to criticise and produce better books. Let pen fight with pen. Artistic licence is required to explore perceived wisdoms and ask new questions from different angles to reveal new insights. These insights are stunted if artistic licence is limited by the intimidation of extremists.

To deal with the prejudicial views people hold on Islam (and this includes Muslims) it is right to go back and draw out the early key characters during the formative years of Islam. While this book is indeed fiction it does provide such an opportunity. The book will soon start circulating in the UK. The approach Sherry has adopted – stretching her hand out for engagement rather than confrontation – is a positive one. Muslim groups would be wise to take up her offer.